


Wrong Coffee

by beyond_the_nights_world



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shop Owner Castiel, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Lawyer Dean, M/M, New Job, New York, Orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 05:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9109567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_the_nights_world/pseuds/beyond_the_nights_world
Summary: Coffee Shop AUWhile going to work, Dean had to find a new Coffee Shop.Castiel and his coffee creations are changing Dean's life until the day he had to move to New York.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first AU. Hope you like it.
> 
> Italic = Dean's memories

Dean had his eyes closed. His hand was curled around the grabpole and he leant his head against his underarm. It was an early morning, right before the rush hour would change the tube into a crowded asylum.

Dean was on his way to the prestigious law office, where he would be introduced as the new junior associate. The job, he had been working towards since he left college and went to Harvard.

To not fall asleep again, he put on his earbuds and started the playlist from his i-phone. After a few seconds, the music began to play with the familiar sound from Mike & the Mechanics, singing about another cup of coffee.

He closed his eyes and the smell of fresh brewed coffee was reaching his nostrils, although he knew, he was standing in an old, smelly tube-waggon.

Dean allowed his thoughts to go on the tramp, to the point that changed his life in a way he didn't fully realized by now.

 

_It all began with a fucking Roadwork two months ago._

_They had started to repair the pavement of the road, he needed to drive to his work in the small law office of his uncle. Dean was totally surprised by the inaccessible road and the fact, that he had to take another route stressed him out. He was late, a client was waiting and he didn't have a proper breakfast and a morning coffee. Totally pissed of he drove down a sideroad and was surprised to see a small coffee shop. He parked his Impala right in front of the entrance and rushed into the small store. While sending a short message on his phone, he reached to the counter._

“ _Double strong roasted espresso latte with soy milk to go. For Dean”, he ordered without looking up._

_This was his morning drink. Strong, hot and always the same._

_When nothing happened, he looked up, seing a wide grin._

“ _Any problem?...” he tried to find a nameplate at the shirt of the vendor._

“ _You seem to be a customer of the coffee store down the main street. But I have to admit, that we doesn't carry soy milk. I'm sorry for that, Dean.” The man said with a baroton voice, his head tilted with a open smile._

“ _Oh...wonderful... then. Brew something... hot and strong. Need to wake up. And.. I don't have time...”, Dean assigned._

“ _Sure”, the man said, turning around to the coffee machine. He worked with trained movements. And after a short period of time, he put a big paper cup on the counter, filled with aromatic smelling coffee and a wonderful soft cream._

“ _3 Dollars.”, the vendor smiled and hollered a “Have a nice day”, when Dean left the building quickly._

 

Dean could still remember the taste of the coffee. It was strong but smooth, not bitter or scratchy with a light note of hazel and choclate. The best coffee he had ever drunk.

The waggon was getting fuller, more people entered the tube to drive to their work. Dean hated full tubes, but he hadn't a parking space at his new work for now and finding a lot in New York, was impossible. Especially with a big Impala.

This was one point he already hated here, although he was only living here for a week. He turned his head and looked around. When he realized that everyone was bothered with themselves, he slipped back into his own thoughts.

 

_Since that day, Dean had bought his coffee everyday at the small coffee shop. And Castiel, he had found out the name at his third visit, started to surprise him with new flavours of coffee now and then. Asking him, if he should sell this creation or not._

_Soon, Dean realized ,that it was the highlight of his busy day, to get his morning coffee along with a chat with Cas. And it was the second week, when Dean started to come earlier, just for drinking his coffee at the store, eating one of those delicious muffins and talking with Cas about God, the world and life.Cas seemed to be a calm and polite human, who listened carefully to what Dean was talking about, regardless of wheather it was about the job or his boring private life._

_He smiled, nodded and gave his opinion, before he moved back to the counter, brewing one of his new creations or serving a new customer._

 

A child was crying and two girls were discussing loudly, if they should go to the concert of a band, Dean never had heard of.

Dean looked up to the display and realized, that there were still twenty minutes until he arrived at the station, where he had to get off the tube. Some people were leaving and a seat was free. Dean sat down with a sigh, looking through the window, to see the dark grey wall of the tunnel and his own tired face. He closed his eyes, leaning against the cold window.

 

_It was the fourth week, when Dean started to come around after work. His colleagues always moved to a bar, taking some beers, but he made excuses for not joining them. Sometimes it was the ill cat, another time a visitor. And soon they stopped asking him. He always headed directly to the coffee shop and Cas was always waiting for him, with a decaf hazelnut cappucino (too much coffain in the evening was a sleep-killer) and a sandwich._

_Dean remembered a day, when he had to work longer because of an important client. It was wide after midnight, when he drove passed the shop just to see the lights still on. When he parked his car and entered the room, he saw Castiel sitting at one of the tables, sleeping with his head on his hands. A cold hazelnut cappucino and a sandwich in front of him._

 

The train stuttered and the breaks were squeaking loudly. Dean winced and looked around irritated. He felt as if he was sitting at the table of the coffee store and not in a full New Yorker tube. Slowly he got up, fighting his way through the crowd to get to the door. Someone was swearing behind him, a woman next to him, was speaking loudly into her cell phone. A big, warm cloud of sweat, cigaretts parfume and urine was hanging in the air, making Dean gulp.

When the tube stopped and the doors opened, he nearly tumbled out of the waggon gasping for fresh air. The gush of people pushed him to the entrance and when he climbed up the stairs automatically, his thoughts wandered back again.

 

_It was the seventh week, when everything changed.It was on of those fuck off days._

_The weather had been bad. Rainy and cold, with and icy wind from the north. A court case went wrong and Dean had been full of self-doubts._

_When he had entered the coffee shop this evening he was so glad to see, he was the only client. Cas realized the bad mood and closed his shop, leading Dean into the small room in the back of the shop, where he was living. Dean was venting his spleen, and Cas was making something to eat. He was listening to Dean's outbreaks of doubts, encouraging him, that he was a great lawyer and would be part of a big office one day._

_Dean felt so relaxed when he was with Cas, so safe and in good hands, that he didn't intercede when Cas kissed him._

_Dean was never with a man before, but this felt good and right... The kisses were soft and gentle tasting like chocolate and cinnamon. The touches were demanding, but not forcing._

_Cas had asked him, if this was okay, and Dean could just nod, pulling him into a wild and needy kiss.It was no humping, no short number._

_It had been love making. Sweet and slow, endless touches, caressing, whispering. Their bodies were grinding against each other, hands intertwinded, tongues tangled._

_Dean came with a cry, spurting into Cas' mouth. Cas came with a deep growl, when Dean jerked him off, while sucking marks on the soft skin of his neck._

_They came together later on, when Cas fucked Dean, slowly. On the bed, between sheets and pillows, surrounded by darkness and the aromatic smell of coffee._

 

Dean stood in front of the skycraper, looking up to the top of this monster out of steel and glass. This was the place, he had been fighting for. This was the place, where he always wanted to be. Slowly, he climbed the stairs to the front door, showing his ID to the security man.

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester”, a young woman smiled at him, when he entered the building and looked around to find the elevator.

“Good morning Miss...?” He knew the face from his hiring interview.

“Anna Milton, your future secretary”, she smiled brightly, leading him to the lift.

 

_It was the eigth week, when Dean left. The assurance for his new job._

_He was happy. And the first person, who should new about it, was Cas._

_Dean left for the lunchhour, heading to the shop._

_Cas was surprised to see Dean. Smiling, waving the letter in his hand. He was talking a mile a minute and Cas was listening. Dean didn't realized in that moment the sad smile, the hanging shoulders._

_He just heard the gratulation, felt the proud clap on his shoulders. Cas made him a special coffee to celebrate his new job._

_Then, Dean left. Left the shop, left the town, left Castiel._

_Left for New York, five hundred miles away from hazelnut cappucino and vanilla latte._

 

Dean was sitting in the big office listening to his senior chef, who was talking about new perspectives, a good relationship. Dean smiled, nodded a few times and taking a sip of his coffee. It was terrible. A bitter black liquid, made without love and passion.

“Mr. Winchester. Would you please come here and sign the contract?”

Everyone in the room was spending applause, when Dean got up and moved to the top of the table. He slowly took the pen and hesitated.

“Everything okay. Mr. Winchester?”

“No...”, Dean looked up, throwing the pen back on the table. “Sorry. But you make the wrong coffee.”

***

It was past ten pm, when Dean parked the car in front of the coffee shop. The lights were already dim. Slowly, Dean moved to the door and touched the handle. When the door opened, he sighed relieved.

“We are closed”, a husky voice echoed from the back of the shop. Cas was apparently cleaning the kitchen.

“Is there the chance ,that a stupid lawyer, who thinks that he is in love, gets a hazelnut decaf cappucino?”

 


End file.
